Would It Help to Say I'm Sorry?
by Mona
Summary: Even David Xanatos gets caught off-guard sometimes. First chapter's short, but chapters will get longer. Explores the relationship our favorite Machiavellian businessman has with his father.
1. Acute MI

"Would It Help to Say I'm Sorry?"

An original Gargoyles fanfic by Mona

Disclaimer: All characters from Gargoyles are © Disney and Greg Weisman, used without permission but with lots of love and care. Original characters, including; but not limited to Madrigal, Bill, and Mr. Opperknockety, are copyright me.

(Bar Harbor, Maine)

The sun shone brightly on the aquamarine coast. Two fishermen were sitting on a dock, finishing lunch.

"Are you okay?" asked one, named Bill Aviola. "You haven't said much."

"I'm fine," replied the other, Petros Xanatos. "Chest felt a little funny this morning. Nerves, I think."

"Heard from your son?"

"Not really. Why?"

"I got a letter from my little girl at Rice yesterday. She made Dean's List."

"Isn't she on full scholarship?"

"Of course." Bill gave a hearty laugh. "Otherwise I'd be on Skid Row holding a sign that says 'Have to send my daughter to an Ivy League school on a community college budget. Please donate.'" Both men laughed.

"Though," Petros commented. "Rice tuition is pennies compared to Oxford expenses for your firstborn."

"Summa Cum Laude from Oxford." Bill puffed out his chest in fatherly pride. "Youngest appointee to the United States Supreme Court in history. Though David Xanatos is marginally more famous. Every time I hear the name on the news, I want to say 'I knew him when he was in diapers!' So you're a grandpa now. How does it feel?"

"I'm getting old, Bill."

"Fact of life."

"Those pictures of Alex don't do him justice. You should see him in person."

"For two poor fishermen from Maine, we didn't do too bad. A Rice student, a Supreme Court justice, and the world's richest tycoon."

Petros opened his mouth to reply when something in him seized up. His arm went numb. Pain radiated through the center of his chest as he clutched at his. "Bill! Help!"

His friend felt a surge of fright and concern. A gasp of "Oh, Walt!" escaped his lips as he rushed to get help.

(New York, New York)

A couple hours had passed. Xanatos Enterprises employees went about their jobs in the glass and steel Eyrie Building. The CEO in charge controlled everything from his office, high above the clouds.

Owen Burnett set down a stack of stock reports. "Harrison Reznichek's company stock has risen several points in the past few weeks, putting it close to Xanatos Enterprises stock. There are also rumors that Reznichek will relocate from Newark."

"When the time comes, I'll deal with the jerk from Jersey," replied David Xanatos calmly. "Any other news?"

"No, sir."

The phone rang. The businessman picked it up. "Xanatos."

"David?" It was his mother, Madrigal. Her voice sounded shaky.

"Yes, it's me, Mother."

"Something awful has happened...I just got here."

"I can barely hear you. Bad connection. There's this sobbing noise in the background. Wait. That sobbing is you?" _This must be serious. Mother never cries._ "What's wrong?"

"I...can't tell you. Not now. Not myself."

The tycoon handed his phone to his assistant. "See if you can talk some sense into her."

"Yes, sir." Owen held the phone to his ear. "Mrs. Xanatos? This is your son's personal assistant. What seems to be the problem?" Silence. "I see. I'll tell him." He turned. "She's calling from Bar Harbor. Your father has suffered a severe myocardial infarction."

The tycoon's mouth went dry. Heart attack? The silent killer. A memory from his senior year of high school flooded back. One crispy day in November, gym class had consisted of running laps around a track. Track star Paris Papadakis suddenly stopped, staggered, and collapsed. By the time the instructor got to him, he was dead. Though David hadn't known Paris that well, but watched the scene with fascinated interest. It was the first time he had seen witnessed death itself. Paris had been running one minute and was dead the next. David didn't attend the funeral, but there had been an article in the paper. Paris Papadakis was eighteen years old and in perfect health but his autopsy showed a completely dead myocardium. It was later found out that the young athlete had a flaw: only one coronary artery, and it had burst from an aneurysm. Xanatos knew you could take preventive measures to prevent a heart attack: eating right, monitoring blood pressure, and exercising. Yet perfect candidates for them seemed to stay alive and healthy people dropped dead.

And now it had happened to his father. Xanatos wanted to laugh it off and ask Owen if this was Puck's sick idea of a joke? But Owen's emotionless features looked stonier than usual – and his mother had been crying.

Fox came in, cradling her son. She had overheard Owen. "Heart attack? How? His cholesterol's lower than David's!"

Xanatos finally caught his voice as he picked up the phone. "Don't worry, Mother. I'm coming."

TBC


	2. Going Back

(Room 101)

Madrigal leaned over her unconscious husband and squeezed his hand. The EKG monitor blipped steadily. "I couldn't get here fast enough to tell you how sorry I am. Remember that September day when you called to ask me out?"

_The phone rang. Mary Lee Wedgewood leaned over and picked it up. "Wedgewood residence." _

_It was a male voice. A young male voice. "Uh...is Madrigal home?" _

_Mary Lee was tempted to impersonate her older sister, but thought better of it. "May I ask who's calling?" _

"_A boy from school." _

"_You and the rest of the male population of that school," groaned Mary Lee. She cupped her hand over the mouthpiece. "Madrigal! Phone! It's a boy!" _

_Petros' hand was sweating over the receiver. The few seconds felt like hours. _

"_Hello?" It was Madrigal's musical lilt. _

"_Madrigal? This is Petros Xanatos. I don't know if you know me, but I'm in your English class. I sit by the window in the third row." _

"_I know who you are." _

"_Would you like to go see a movie with me Saturday?" _

"_Is this a joke?" _

"_No. I think," The teenage boy's voice stammered. _

"_Keep thinking, loser," replied the girl. "Because nothing short of six states falling into the Pacific Ocean would make me go anywhere with you!" She hung up._

_Petros stared at the phone before he replaced the receiver. For the first time in his seventeen years of life, he had felt the sting of unrequited love. _

Madrigal's gray eyes were shiny with fresh tears. "I can't believe I called you a loser. I thought you were below me, when I didn't deserve you. Remember Homecoming? The wiring in the gym picked that night to blow and soon the whole gym was in flames? My dress caught on fire. Good thing the theme was _Gone With the Wind_ and all the girls were wearing those pouffy dresses with the hoopskirts. Only the skirt itself and my petticoats got burned. But you pulled that punch bowl from the banquet table and poured it over me. And you actually carried me out of there. You could have died from smoke inhalation, but you risked your life to save me. I always wondered why you did it. And then when we were in the ambulance getting treated, you apologized for getting me wet. And then we started going out. Even went to the prom together. Everyone said it wouldn't last, but we got married four years after high school. And we were still married when it came time for our tenth high school reunion. I miss you a lot, Petros."

(The hallway)

"I won't lie to you, Mr. Xanatos," said Dr. Goldheart, the cardiologist who had treated Petros. "It was serious. If the clot-dissolving medication hadn't been administered upon the paramedics' arrival, he might have died." She pointed to the images on the wall. "Here are the angiogram images. You'll notice the ischemia. Your father's heart is pumping at about seventy-five percent capacity."

"Will he recover?"

"Provided he doesn't have any serious complications? Yes, but we'll have to keep him under close observation for a few days."

"Do you know what caused this?"

"Considering most of my patients are overweight and eat butter with everything? It was a large clot that lodged partway in the right coronary artery and effectively blocked the heart flow, but according to his medical records, your father didn't seem to have any previous medical problems. But then again I've seen eighteen year olds die from heart attacks."

Xanatos nodded, remembering Paris Papadakis. He turned and headed for the waiting room.

"Hello, David," came a familiar-sounding voice from behind him. The businessman turned. Dr. Goldheart was gone. In her place was Elisa Maza.

At least it looked like Elisa Maza. Instead of her usual jeans, black shirt and red jacket, she was wearing a crisp nurse's uniform. The voice was the same, but it sounded bitter. Almost poisonous. "You were due."

"Due for what?"

"A reality check. Life is supposed to be ups and downs. You only got the ups until now. Looks like you've been paid a visit by Alecto, Tisiphone, and Megaera."

"I never pegged you as a vengeful woman."

"After what you did to my brother? Or my friends? But the cosmic scales of justice have achieved a certain irony. My brother's different on the outside and your dad's dying on the inside. From a blackened heart that's just like yours." Elisa scanned Xanatos with her dark eyes. "Aren't you going to make some smart-aleck retort?"

"I might. If you were the real Elisa Maza."

"I'm real enough."

"Would it help to say I'm sorry, Detective?"

She snorted. "Apologies are just words."

"If this is my punishment, why didn't it happen to me?"

"Your dad didn't deserve this, but my brother didn't deserve to be a mutant. A family member for a family member."

"My father would say 'Eye for an eye will leave the world blind.'"

"My father said, 'What goes around comes around.'"

"I hear Dr. Lee Thal is just as good at genetics. Perhaps he could find the cure." _Unless she took the Concorde_, thought Xanatos. _Coming here from New York in this short a time would be physically impossible. And how would she have known about Father's heart attack? She's probably just a figment of my imagination. _He turned to walk away, glancing over his shoulder.

Elisa was still there, watching him.

The businessman walked down the sterile white corridor to the waiting room. He took a seat next to Fox. Alex was in his mother's lap.

The click of expensive high heels touching the linoleum of the floor became audible. David looked up and beheld his mother.

Madrigal looked as if she had aged ten years. A hundred new wrinkles graced her face. The only makeup she wore was blush, under which her normally peach skin was white-gray. Her tears had left streaks.

Alex squirmed in his mother's arms, wondering why Grandma looked so sad. He kept cooing and reaching for Madrigal, as if to reassure her everything was going to be all right.

Fox offered a handkerchief, which the brunette accepted gratefully.

"Hello, Mother," Xanatos greeted.

"I never noticed how much you look like your father until now," replied the matron.

"How'd you get here?" Fox asked. "You beat us here and you live in Seattle."

"My aviation design company perfected a supersonic jet. Flies at twice the speed of the Concorde and uses half the fuel."

Xanatos flashed his trademark smirk. "Be careful, Mother, or your corporation will be in direct competition with mine. And I crush my competition."

The tears had stopped. "You could never beat me at Clue. What makes you think this will be any different?"

"Where are you staying?" Xanatos asked.

"Crystal Waters Inn. Five star. I wouldn't check into anything less. Why?"

"Apparently, we'll be here awhile."

"Don't lie to me, David."

"Fine. Do you still have your key to the old house?"

"Why?"

The businessman shrugged. "I want to show Fox where I grew up."

"But nosing around your father's house without his permission."

"He'd let us in if he were conscious. It's not breaking and entering."

Madrigal shuddered. "Don't give me those puppy-dog eyes!" She reached into her handbag and dug out a keyring. She removed a copper key and handed it to her son. "But don't tell your father you were in his house without his permission."

"Fair enough." Xanatos took Alex. "Care to babysit your grandson while we go?"

The grandmother accepted the infant gratefully.

"Come, Owen," commanded the tycoon. "I'll give you directions."

Madrigal sat down in one of the molded plastic chairs, and held the gurgling infant. "I remember when your father was a little baby..."

XXX

"_Waaaah! Waaaaah! Aaaaaaah!" _

_Madrigal pulled the pillow over her head. "Petros!"_

"_What?" Her husband mumbled. "I didn't hear anything!" _

"_Cut it out! I fed him last time! It's your turn." _

"_Oh, Maddie. It's lobster season. I need every second of sleep I can get." _

"_Oh, fine." She spilled out of bed and shoved her feet into her slippers. She went to the kitchen to warm up a bottle of milk. Meanwhile, the cries were getting louder and higher-pitched. _

_Madrigal opened the bottle and found that the gallon of Royal Dairy she had bought was empty. No matter. She opened a quart of Cowry and filled a bottle, then heated it up. A quick squirt to make sure it wasn't too hot. Then she took it to her son. _

_The baby took one sip of his milk and spit it out. "Yucky." _

"_David, it's milk. We're out of the other brand." She tried to give him another drink, but the infant shut his mouth tight. "It's two o' clock in the morning!" _

_Baby David shook his head. _

"_What do you want? Royal Dairy? It costs a whole dollar more! I only bought it because it was on sale." Her son was pouting. "The store is closed!" The little boy didn't seem to comprehend. His eyes widened and a tear fell down his cheek. Then he started to cry as avidly as ever. _

"_OK, fine. I'll go to the twenty-four hour mart in Augusta. Just don't give me that puppy face." And let me drink some coffee so I don't fall asleep at the wheel. _

"_Goo," was the reply. _

Xanatos and his wife were riding down the streets of Bar Harbor in a limousine. Luckily, Xanatos Enterprises had some businesses in town, including a limousine service. It helped to own such a conglomeration of companies.

Owen drove carefully, within the speed limit. His boss looked out the window. A lot had changed since the last time he was in Bar Harbor.

"I think I figured out why you married me," Fox said to him with a smile.

"The reasons I gave you in my proposal? Or something else."

"Try Freudian."

"Enlighten me, Fox."

"I reminded you of your mom. She's got expensive tastes, elegance, style, and I suspect she's not afraid to get mean. You're a textbook case of the Oedipus complex."

"I'm more of a Jungian."

"What I'm curious about is why someone like your mother got married to a stuffy and modest fisherman."

"Same way a fairy queen made herself human and married pathetic little Halcyon Renard." The memories were flooding back.

XXX

"_It seems like a thankless task," Seven year old David Xanatos commented. "Walking miles every day carrying a sack of letters." _

"_It's communication," replied the kindly old mail carrier, Mr. Opperknockety. _

"_You could try phone or telegraph."_

"_But some things are best said with a letter or card. When I was a little boy, I pretended I was riding the Pony Express. Or a knight of the Round Table." _

"_I fantasize more about being Andrew Carnegie or John D. Rockefeller than a cowboy or knight." _

_Mr. Opperknockety smiled and the boy the day's mail, which consisted of the current issue of the Wall Street Journal. "I guess you should read this before your mother, then. Cheers, my boy." He tipped his hat and moved on. _

XXX

"My mother is a successful entrepreneur. She taught everything I knew about business," Xanatos added.

Fox smirked. "I thought you said you taught yourself by stealing her copies of the Wall Street Journal."

"But if she didn't subscribe, I wouldn't have had access to them. My mother used to tell me she wanted to be an actress, but since it's got a high failure rate she decided raising a child would be more fulfilling. She stayed at home full-time. Dad worked. The money he made kept us out of the poorhouse, but just barely."

"Rags to riches. You really should write that book." The limousine stopped in front of a modest cottage.

XXX

_Nine year old David handed his mother a graded paper. "I got an A on my project." _

"_You didn't tell us about a project," Petros commented, joining Madrigal at the table. _

"_It was simple," explained the boy. "We had to come up with a theory and do an experiment that either disproves or supports the theory. I did 'Relativity and Evolution.' I wanted to see if the primal instinct for parents to protect their young remained in modern-day humans. Remember last week when I came home all dirty and I said Nick Saunders pushed me in the mud? I was testing Mother's reaction. She called Mrs. Saunders and threatened to sue. And the next day, I tested the other parent's reaction. And if I recall correctly, Father threatened our residential bully." _

"_I did not," argued Petros. "I just told him to leave you alone!" _

"_Anyway," David continued. "Your reactions supported the theory that parents will protect their young!" He turned and walked out. _

"_Do you feel used, Maddie?" asked Petros once their son was out of earshot. _

"_Yes, but proud," replied Madrigal. _

XXX

Xanatos got out. "Welcome to my simple humble neighborhood, on my simple humble street."

TBC


	3. The clot thickens

Disclaimer: "Miniver Cheevy" and "Richard Cory" © Edwin Arlington Robinson. The song "Richard Cory" copyright Paul Simon. Reader discretion advised due to adult themes.

Madrigal picked up the diaper bag. "Let's go to the Cafeteria. I skipped breakfast and I'm hungry."

Alex began to cry.

"You're hungry, too?" Madrigal rummaged through the diaper bag. "I suppose we can find a microwave."

The baby cried louder.

"I'm working on it."

XXX

Fox looked around Petros' living room. "Little more high-tech than I expected. But then, I expected a little cabin in the woods that the Amish would sneer at."

Xanatos shrugged. "He got a new TV. The one we had in my youth was an ancient fuzzy black-and-white." He flipped the television set on. "Color, standard channels. Nothing special. Otherwise, it looks exactly the same. But then Dad always hated change – even if it could buy him a soda from a vending machine." He bent over the green rug and sniffed. "When I was little, I broke Mother's perfume bottle over this spot. The smell still hasn't come out."

Fox moved to the mantle. A row of small portraits flanked a German cuckoo clock. "Black Forest. Rather classy for your dad's taste."

"Anniversary present from my aunt," explained David. "Never figured out why Mom left it. She loved that clock."

The redhead scanned the photos. A wedding photo of Petros and Madrigal, a photo of Baby Alex, and David in high school graduation robe and mortar board. "You don't suppose he keeps that last one because he was glad to get rid of you?"

"There's no good answer to that one."

"How old were you when you received the coin?"

"Fourteen, but the coin wasn't the sole reason my dad hates me, or hated me – I'm not sure which it is now. It was the taproot, but not the only root."

XXX

Back at the hospital, Baby Alex had finished his milk. Madrigal was grateful her grandson didn't reject the bottle. At least, until Alex spat up on her blouse when she tried to burp him.

Madrigal wrinkled her nose. Fifty dollars and it was ruined. "This was brand new, but I guess you can't help it." Her head was pounding from hunger, so she carried the baby towards the elevator. _Why is the cafeteria always on the ground floor?_

A woman with long brown hair and peach skin was waiting at the stop. She wore a simple black blouse and blue jeans, and there was a simple gold heart-shaped locket around her neck.

"Do I know you?" Madrigal asked. "I think I've seen you before, but I can't quite place you."

The woman turned, poker-faced. "I believe we met in New York." She walked away, hands in her pockets.

The elevator arrived.

XXX

_It was a bright August afternoon. Mr. Opperknockety whistled as he skipped down the path._

_Fourteen year old David Xanatos sat on the porch, watching the mail carrier approach. He recalled something his father had said about Mr. Opperknockety: "I don't trust him. He just seems…slippery. Like he's putting on an act." David dismissed the suspicions as mere paranoia. Mr. Opperknockety was a bit bizarre and overly sprightly for his age, but he was harmless, right?_

_Mr. Opperknockety reached the porch and deposited some envelopes in the mailbox. "Hello there, David. I've got some something for you." The elderly postal worker proffered a small box, barely two inches by two inches and an inch deep._

_The boy took the box. "No return address, but little small for a bomb. He shook it. No rattle." He opened the box, careful not to let the mailman see the contents. Inside, nestled in cotton, was a copper coin. There were some engraved markings. The slight green patina where the copper had oxidized indicated it was old, but there were no nicks. It looked like it had been made yesterday. The markings looked Celtic, but he couldn't tell much else about it. He slid the item back in. "Baseball card," he lied. _

_"So what are you doing?" _

_"Just reading some poetry." _

_"Milton?" _

_"Something more modern. Edwin Arlington Robinson." _

_"I love Miniver Cheevy: 'born too late/ Scratched his head and kept on thinking/Miniver coughed and called it fate, and kept on drinking.'" _

_"Richard Cory, actually." _

_"Ooh, morbid one. I'd love to stay and chat, but these bills won't deliver themselves…"_

XXX 

Fox grunted. Her shoe heel had caught between two floorboards. "Ugh. David, I'm stuck."

"Just break the heel off and you can get another pair."

"No! These cost 450 dollars! One of a kind!"

"I'm materialistic, but that's simply too much for one pair of shoes."

"Shut up and help me!" Fox yanked her leg up. The beloved footwear came loose from the floor. A trapdoor flew up.

"I didn't know that was there," Xanatos observed.

Fox took a peek. "I didn't know your dad owned a gun."

"I didn't either." David reached in and pulled out a Colt .45 pistol. One bullet was missing. "Hmm." He pulled out a folder, a miniature tape recorder, a small diary, and a photo album. Flipping through the photo album, Xanatos noticed most of the photos were of his late uncle, Daniel.

"Is this any of our business?" asked Fox.

"It's probably just family documents." Xanatos took the miniature recorder. "Probably a blank." He hit rewind, then play.

There was static and a man's shaky voice. "My name is Daniel Apollo Xanatos. I am in Room 832 of the Crystal Waters Inn. I just can't live this empty life anymore.. I'd like to say goodbye to my brother, Petros, and his wife, Madrigal, and to their unborn child. Good luck, kid. Please don't be angry at me. I didn't mean to put you through this." There was the sound of sobbing. "I'm coming, Mom, Dad." Then a gunshot.

Fox's eyes widened. "Suicide note?" She snatched a folder and squealed. The contents spilled out. On top was an autopsy photo of a man in his middle thirties. He was clean-shaved, but his eyes were closed. He looked asleep, but the pallor of his skin indicated he was dead. Daniel did have a strong family resemblance to Petros. There was no bullet wound visible in the photo, but the stain on the pillow Daniel's head rested on could only have been blood.

Xanatos picked up a stapled packet of papers. "Autopsy report." He skimmed. "Cause of death a single gunshot wound to the back of the head. The bullet nicked the brain stem, cutting off nerves and circulation. Death instantaneous. Trajectory consistent with self-inflicted injury. Manner of death is suicide." There were newspaper articles: a short obituary, and a few article with headlines like _Prominent Businessman Found Dead in Maine Hotel_, _Daniel Xanatos cast as Richard Cory in Real Life Drama, _and _Businessman's Swansong. _He tried to keep his face placid, but his thoughts were racing. _I wanted immortality. Dad told me Daniel was a businessman and had amassed a fortune of $25 million. A spit in the ocean to me, but enough to make a good living, and he threw it away. He was about my age when he killed himself…why did he? Didn't he at least want to see me? How did that poem go? "In fine, we thought he was everything/ To make us wish we were in his place/And Richard Cory one fine summer night/Went home and put a bullet in his head." _

Fox looked queasy. "I'm so sorry. You seem surprised."

"I am surprised. My dad told me Uncle Daniel died in a car crash before I was born."

"He died June 16, 1961. You were born that same year."

"August 5th." David laughed.

"Stop that! Suicide's never funny!"

"I'm laughing at poor Daniel. I'm laughing at my father. He told me to always be honest. _He lied to me!_"

"I can see why."

"I can understand why he'd lie about it when I was a child, but I was going to find out someday. I'm surprised I've gone this far without knowing the truth." Xanatos stuffed the tape recorder in his jacket pocket and replaced the diary, photo album, folder, and gun. "Owen!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Drive us back to the hospital. Now."

"Are you sure it's prudent to confront your father now, given his current condition?" asked the assistant.

"I won't storm into his room playing the tape and demanding an explanation. I just want to talk to him when he regains consciousness. And if it comes up, he can tell me why he's a hypocrite."

"It still is insensitive. I'm not even that cruel to my father," replied Fox as she joined her husband in the car.

The radio DJ announced a Simon and Garfunkel marathon.

Fox snorted as the strains of "Richard Cory" began to play. "Of all of Simon and Garfunkel's songs, why that one?"

XXX

_David hid the box containing the coin under his pillow, then went to find his mother. "Mom, can we get Aunt Mary Lee to visit?" _

"_Why?" Madrigal asked. _

"_I need…an appraisal. I found this coin that looks old." _

"_I guess my coin dealer sister can make a house call." She reached over to the phone. "I'll call her at work." _

_Petros entered the living room. "David? I want to talk to you. In private." _

_The son shrugged. "Fine." They walked into the hall. "About what?"_

"_You'll be starting high school in a week, and I was wondering if you've given any thought to your future profession." _

"_If you're fishing for me to follow in your footsteps, Father, you are seriously mistaken." _

"_I'd highly recommend being a fisherman. How else can you get lobster without paying outlandish prices?" _

"_What's the fun of eating lobster if you can't serve it at a party and know your guests acknowledge that you paid an 'outlandish' price for it?" _

"_You take too much after your mother, boy. Anyway, David, I won't force you to take a job you won't enjoy. You can make your own choices. When Daniel died, all of his money and property went to Madrigal and me. Our parents had died before the car accident, and our oldest brother Jeb died in active duty in World War II. If you want, I'll use that money to put you through college. You can even go to Oxford if you want." _

"_I'll think about it, Father." _

"_What are you planning to get into? I have one objection – you won't be a lawyer. They're evil, materialistic, bloodsucking creatures. And I won't have my son consort with such--" _

"_Rest assured, Father. I'm going into business." _

_Petros' voice cracked. "Business?" _

"_I'll talk to you later on it. Right now I have to get something appraised." _

XXX 

"How's Dad?" David entered the waiting room of the hospital. Madrigal was seated in one of the plastic chairs, eating a salad. Alex was in his bassinet, cradled on one of the chairs.

"Still unconscious," Madrigal replied.

Owen picked up Alex, who cooed.

The woman from the elevator was standing by the magazine rack. Owen turned to her, still holding the infant. He waited until Fox, David, and Madrigal had left to wait by Petros' bedside, and walked to her.

"Blonde looks better on you than white," commented the brunette human.

Owen blushed and whispered to Alexander. "All you have to do is say 'revert.'"

"Re-voo," replied Alex.

"Close enough…" Owen did not quite sound like Owen anymore. It was the voice of his alter ego, the fay Puck. Time itself seemed to freeze in the little hospital corridor. A nurse with a clipboard was frozen mid-step. The receptionist at the desk was still and silent, the phone still at her ear. Owen himself transmuted into what looked like a white-haired elf in a silk toga.

The woman shrieked as her hair elongated, her skin went milky white, and her clothes became a glittery white velvet dress. "I hate you! I hate you!"

Puck laughed. "Well, if it isn't the Ice Princess herself. You're a little far from home, aren't ya?"

"Why can't our human forms block our natural magic signatures?"

"I have no idea. By the way, I'm being rude. This is Alexander Xanatos, my little trickster in training."

The Snow Queen looked at Alex. "He is darling!" She reached out to kiss the baby's forehead, but Puck curled the child away. "What's the big idea?"

"You know what your kiss does to humans. And more to the point, why are you here?"

"One, he's not completely human. His fairy blood renders him immune to the…side effects. Second, I have no idea why Avalon sent me. I was hoping to go back to Switzerland. I guessed it has to do with my little humility lesson."

"Or Oberon doesn't trust me, even with reduced powers and he sent you to act as a brake on me."

"That's probably it, but I like to think I'm…educating myself by educating others."

"Did you cause the heart attack?"

"You forget you and I can't directly intervene in human affairs. I did not cause your boss' father's ailment. I couldn't even if I wanted to. But I do confess to a little masquerade." She transmuted into the pseudo-Elisa and back again. "Your boss is fascinating. He has no guilt, or at least represses it. 'Elisa Maza' confronted him right there and he remained cool as a cucumber."

Puck burst out laughing. "You wanted to see him guilty?"

"I was going for it, yes. Emotion is so interesting to study, don't you think? Of course I have to think of loopholes."

"If you ever need a loophole, look for me." Puck smirked. "Though you're pretty good at finding them yourself. Oberon said you could never marry a mortal…he never said you couldn't fall in love with one!"

"Oh, how do you know about that?"

"Word travels fast on Earth."

"Pele is such a gossip. I should have guessed."

"I didn't hear it from Pele. At least, not directly. I heard it from Eshu who heard it from Anansi who heard it from Anubis who heard it from Amanterasu who heard it from Grandmother who heard it from Raven who heard it from Coyote who heard it from Bunny who heard it from Pele. Though I'm more interested in that little liason with Hans Christian Andersen…"

"Stop it!"

"Care to know what Alex and I have been covering as of late? I know you do."

The room instantly got hotter, climbing from seventy degrees Fahrenheit to one hundred and ten. The Snow Queen began to sweat. The flowers in her hair drooped. Being born of magic and ice, she was vulnerable to heat.

Alex cooed. The temperature dropped back to normal.

The Snow Queen glared. "You did that on purpose!"

"You're a stick in the mud, Snowy."

"If you're still carrying a torch for the chamois hunter, just ask Big Daddy O nicely. He can resurrect your boyfriend and bestow immortality. It'd be a piece of cake. Though he might twist your words and forget to add eternal youth. Or make him a permanent baby."

"No, Puck. That's something you'd pull."

"He is technically your dad, and you know how overprotective fathers can be."

"Can we discuss this some other time. You did not freeze time just to tease me about my nonexistent love life."

"No, I didn't. I wanted to introduce my star pupil and figure out what's been going on here. And while we're at it, I wanted to give Alex a couple of lessons. Want to help?"

The Snow Queen sighed. "What choice do I have?"

To Be Continued


End file.
